Page 84 of Reaper's Desire

"We have the truth. And we have leverage." I squeeze her hand gently. "We're going to confront her. We're going to force her to call off the contract."

"She'll never admit it. She'll deny everything."

"She won't be able to deny the evidence. And she won't be able to ignore the threat." I hold her gaze, making sure she understands what I'm saying. "I'll be there. She'll know exactly what I am and what I'm capable of. And if we need to, we can bring your father into it. That's the leverage."

Isabelle stares at me for a long moment. "You're going to threaten her."

"I'm going to make her understand that if she doesn't cooperate, there will be consequences. From both sides." I release her hand and stand, moving to the window. "If she doesn't call off the contract, I'll expose her crimes to your father. I'll make sure he knows exactly what she's been doing with his money, exactly how she's been betraying him. And I'll make sure she knows that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to protect you."

Isabelle chews at her lip. "Including killing her."

I don't answer immediately. The truth is complicated, and I'm not sure Isabelle is ready to hear it. But she deserves honesty, so I give it to her. "If it comes to that, yes. But I don't think it will. Vivienne is desperate, but she's not stupid. She'll understand that calling off the contract is her best option. Her only option."

"And if she doesn't? What if she refuses? What if she decides to take her chances?"

I run a hand through my hair. "I don't know," I admit quietly. "I can only stay ahead of these people for so long, Isabelle.But I think this will work. Vivienne used an intermediary for a reason—she wants distance from the crime. She wants plausible deniability. If we confront her directly, if we make it clear that we have proof of her involvement, she'll fold."

Isabelle is quiet for a long moment. Then she nods slowly. "Okay."

"I'll handle it. Whatever it takes, I'll end this." I look at her, briefly, then back outside. The words are simple, but the weight behind them is enormous. I'm promising to do whatever it takes to keep Isabelle alive. Up to, and including, losing my own life.

Isabelle stands and crosses to where I'm standing by the window. "Why are you doing this?" she asks quietly. "Why are you risking everything for me?"

"Because I can't let you die," I say simply. "I just can't."

She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see her weighing my words, trying to decide if she believes me. Finally, she nods.

"Okay. Let's do this."

—

I spend the next several hours on the phone, calling in favors and gathering information. My network is extensive—years of contracts and connections have given me access to people in every major city, in every level of the criminal underworld. I use all of it now, pulling every string I have to piece together the full picture of how Vivienne placed the contract.

The biggest confirmation I get is from a contact in digital surveillance, who confirms for me that not only has the price on Isabelle's and my head increased since the last two failures, but the only way for the contract to be canceled is for Vivienne to do it herself. If she does, a message will go out to all active hunters.The contract is void, and anyone who completes it after that point faces consequences from the network.

I hang up and turn to find Isabelle watching me from the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She looks small and vulnerable, and I have to resist the urge to cross the room and pull her into my arms. "What did you find out?" she asks.

"The contract can be canceled. But only by Vivienne. She has to authorize it through the family." I sit down at the desk again. "Once we confront her, once we make her understand that she has no choice, she'll make the call. And then we wait." I look at her. "Do you know when Vivienne is likely to be home? And alone?"

Isabelle gives a small nod. "I know her schedule pretty well. And my father's. She'll be home tomorrow afternoon. My father has a business trip to London—he leaves in the morning and won't be back for three days. Vivienne always stays home when he's traveling. She doesn't like being alone in the city."

"Perfect. We'll go to the estate and confront her there."

"And if she refuses? If she calls security or tries to have us removed?"

"Then I make it very clear that refusing isn't an option." I close the laptop and turn to face her. "I'm not going to hurt her, Isabelle, unless I have to. But I will make sure she understands exactly what's at stake."

She stands and crosses to the bathroom, and I hear the water running as she washes her face. I turn back to the laptop and start making notes. My phone buzzes with a message from my contact in New York. He's sent preliminary surveillance photos of Vivienne—images of her leaving the estate, shopping on Fifth Avenue, having lunch at an expensive restaurant in Midtown. I study each photo carefully, looking for anything I can use.

She's beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Blonde hair styled perfectly, designer clothes, and an expression of bored superiority on her face that makes my skin crawl. She looks like someone who's never been told no, and never faced real consequences for her actions.

That's about to change.

I pull up more photos—Vivienne at a charity gala, Vivienne getting into a town car, Vivienne walking through Central Park with a small dog on a leash. I study her body language, the way she carries herself, the way she interacts with the people around her. She's confident and entitled, completely unaware that her carefully constructed life is about to come crashing down.

"What are you looking at?" Isabelle's voice comes from behind me, and I turn to find her standing in the bathroom doorway, her face freshly washed and her hair pulled back.

"Surveillance photos of Vivienne." I gesture to the screen.